


blame it on the booze (got me feeling loose)

by orphan_account



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bisexual Lip Gallagher, Bottom Mickey Milkovich, M/M, Masturbation, Top Ian Gallagher, Watching, lip is attracted to mickey, mickey's just drooling over ian's dick, size difference noted, they're way kinkier than anyone expected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 07:38:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12836412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A drunk Lip comes home to an almost silent house.





	blame it on the booze (got me feeling loose)

Breadcrumbs falling from his mouth, Lip stumbled drunkenly up the stairs. It was three in the morning (even though he could’ve sworn it was only eleven at night) and he’d spent the last couple of hours in Joaquin’s dorm drinking and smoking while coeds hopped from his lap to one another’s, leaving hickeys to keep track. He had no idea how he got home, just knew that he was hungry as fuck when he got one foot through the door and headed straight towards the kitchen.

The house was quiet except for the few beat up fans in almost every room, and it made Lip’s head hurt. He could feel his brain rattling, searching for the loudness of clinking liters of vodka and topless blondes. He just needed to lay down, was all, and then his head would be okay - until the next morning.

He was barely a foot away from his bedroom when he heard Ian. It was so loud compared to the silence of his sleeping family that he jumped a little, but didn’t think much more as he took another step toward his door. It was nothing he hadn’t heard; he’d spent plenty of nights knocking on the bathroom door and telling Ian to jerk it a little faster or not at all because he had to fucking piss. But then he heard Mickey.

He stopped and turned, looking at the end of the hall. He could feel a warmth build up in the pit of his stomach. Ian’s bedroom door was cracked open a bit, one of Liam’s old night lights shining through. Lip stepped forward, and then stepped again. He kept walking until he reached the door, and was leaning against the wall to look through.

There was Mickey, a blanket draped across his back, barely hanging on as he rocked on top of Ian. His hair was hanging down in front of his face so that Lip couldn’t see, not that he should have been able to. But he wanted to. Slowly, he slid down so that he was sitting, legs spread. He kept his eyes on the bed as his palm found his crotch. He sighed. God, this was terrible, this was gross. He’d spent most of his teenage years teasing Ian about his queer Playboys, made jokes about gay porn. This was weird and...

“Fuck, _Ian_.”

“Good, baby?”

“Good, yeah, Jesus _fucking_ -“

Mickey was whining, stuttering in a high pitched voice and Lip was almost as amused as he was amazed. High and mighty Mickey Milkovich was a slut, an absolute _slut_.

He unbuttoned his jeans fast, thumbing the head of his cock slow to the sound of Mickey’s breaths. They were soft and low and his voice broke through on every other one to the sound of Ian telling him how hot he looked, how dirty he was.

“That’s it. Ride my cock. God, like that. You’re so good, Mickey. Gonna make me come like that, baby, yeah?”

Mickey moaned like Ian’s words alone were gonna make him burst and he almost stopped completely, arching his back.

“In my mouth, Mick.”

“Ian, shut the fuck up.”

And he was rocking back and forth again, hands holding Ian’s on either side of his head. The blanket fell and Ian kicked it off the bed, exposing Mickey’s ass. He was spread wide, moving his body slow on Ian’s cock, wet and audible and so fucking graphic, even given the situation. Just graphic.

Lip looked at the ceiling above him, wrapping his hand around himself and biting down on his lip. He was so hard it made him dizzy.

“Touch me.” Mickey whimpered. And then he let out a short scream that ended in a gag and Lip tried not to look, but he did. Ian’s thumb was pressed down on Mickey’s tongue, spit dribbling down his wrist. Mickey looked so submissive, so willing to do anything for Ian, so desperate to come. Lip swore he saw him tear up.

Ian nodded, lifting his hips up to chase Mickey’s. Mickey sobbed, a stream of soft profanities spilling around Ian’s fingers. His entire body stopped, not collapsing but completely giving in as Ian took over and for a split second all he could hear was, “There you go, baby, that’s it.”

Ian sat up, wrapped one arm around Mickey’s waist and flipped them over. Mickey’s thighs wrapped around Ian and the sound of skin touching skin was all Lip heard before Mickey let out a muffled yell.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, Ian, _pleasepleaseplease_.”

Lip’s hips rocked up to meet his hand and he was moaning quiet into his t-shirt, his eyes shut tight but it didn’t matter because he could hear Ian telling Mickey what a good boy he was and how fucking good he tasted. He bit down on the collar of his shirt as the heat from his stomach spread down his limbs and made his head foggy. His entire body was still as he came, his hands shot down to grab at his thighs or his knees or his neck, anything to stay quiet.

He sat, exhausted and covered in his own jizz, on the floor in front of his brother's bedroom. The drunk part of him wanted to laugh. He'd just gotten off on his brother's boyfriend. The sane, human being part of him wanted to vomit. He'd just gotten off on his brother's boyfriend. He could hear the two of them whispering like the volume of their voices mattered. He wanted to cry and he wanted to blame all of this on being drunk and not getting laid two hours before but when he opened his eyes and saw Mickey standing up, his stomach twisted three different ways and he wanted  _more._

Lip stood up quickly, pants around his ankles and shuffled down the hall into his bedroom. He felt dirty and pathetic as he collapsed on his bed. His guilt made him sweat but so did his adrenaline. As he laid down, he fought for control of his breath and thoughts but all he saw when he closed his eyes were defined muscles and short, sweaty strands of hair. His breath hitched in his throat and a tiny ball of warmth formed in the pit of his stomach. He bunched the sheets underneath him in his fists and bucked his hips up, wishing it all away before giving in to the pounding in his chest.

Just one more time. 


End file.
